Tonart: Ab major
Verse 1
no rest can I find,
For the thoughts of that young man,
he still troubles my mind.
I will rise up and meet him
as the evening draws nigh.
I will meet him as the evening,
as the evening draws nigh.
And if you love another,
your mind all for to wheeze.
Oh, why can't you love the old one
till the young's learnt to please?
It's like the flowers all in your garden
when their beauty's all gone.
Can't you see what I've come to
Ah, the grave, he will rot you,
man out of twenty
that a poor girl can trust.
Oh, the cocoa, ain't she a merry bird?
Down she's singing as she flies.
She brings us glad tidings
and she tells us no lies.
She sucks all small birds' eggs
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